


A Game of Hearthstone

by Fuhadeza



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Long-Distance Relationship, Phone Sex, Public Masturbation, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 15:19:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16518992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuhadeza/pseuds/Fuhadeza
Summary: In which Hana learns the hazards of checking her phone right before her stream is meant to start.





	A Game of Hearthstone

**Author's Note:**

> Self-indulgent smut, take two, or: how I learnt to stop worrying and write card game themed porn.
> 
> (Dedicated to everyone who has ever been in a long-distance relationship.)

Hana’s phone lit up with a notification ten minutes before her stream was supposed to start, and she glanced at the screen to find a message from her girlfriend. _Hey there_ , it read, and there was an image attached, and Hana’s mind was still half-occupied adjusting her webcam when she swiped the message open.

Her mind very rapidly became occupied elsewhere. Brigitte’s smile, crooked and playful, was the only part of her face visible in the photo, but the rest of her was on full display: her shirt was unbuttoned, one breast uncovered and the curve of the other concealed teasingly beneath the hem, the bare expanse of her stomach leading Hana’s gaze down to where—

Brigitte had taken the photo with her phone held in one hand. The other hand was down her pants.

Hana had never been in a long-distance relationship before. She’d never been in a relationship longer than a couple months, period—though the evidence in favour of her current relationship reaching that milestone was displayed before her in full, glorious HD—but even what experience she had hadn’t prepared her for the realities of long distance, which was a polite way of saying that she hadn’t expected to be so fucking _horny_ all the time.

 _I thought you were having dinner with your family,_ she wrote back, trying to ignore the flush creeping up her cheeks, hyper-aware that she had an obligation to go live in—she checked the time—eight minutes from now.

 _I was_. The reply was almost instantaneous. _Then I had a better idea. Thought I’d take a couple photos_.

There was no helping that flush now. Hana fidgeted in her chair, which did precisely nothing to alleviate the heat blossoming between her legs. _A couple?_ she wrote, and even as she hit _send_ she knew it was a mistake, there was no time, she was supposed to be a professional—

Brigitte was wholly naked in the next photo. The phone was between her thighs, angled up, and she must have set a timer on the camera, because one of her hands was teasing a nipple and the other—the other was spreading her pussy lips open, and Hana could see _exactly_ how wet she was. _I want you,_ came the message, a moment later.

Hana bit the back of her hand, out of both frustration and the need to muffle herself: alone in the flat or not, she was _not_ going to moan out loud. _I can’t,_ she wrote once she’d reined herself in. _I’m live in five minutes_.

_I know. That’s the idea._

Hana’s heart began pounding in her chest. _What do you mean?_

 _You’ll see_ , and Hana could imagine perfectly the self-satisfied grin on Brigitte’s face. _I’m going to watch your stream. If you want to have a little fun… let me know._ There was one last photo: two fingers, glisteningly wet, Brigitte’s come stretched between them.

Hana sat blinking for several long, embarrassed seconds. Then the alarm went off on her computer, the one that told her she had two minutes left. ‘ _Fuck,’_ she said, with feeling. Then she put on her headset and got to work.

Ten minutes into the stream it became obvious that being professional wasn’t going to cut it. She liked to start each stream with a few minutes of hanging out, answering questions in her chat, and she’d thought that would calm her down—just some nice, normal interactions with her viewers. Instead it got worse. There were ten thousand people watching her, a number that would only go up as the evening progressed, and none of them knew that she was sitting there, trying not to squirm as the damp spot on her underwear became more and more uncomfortable. There were ten thousand people watching her, and it was _making it worse_.

The third time she glanced at her phone, hoping for another message—another photo—from Brigitte, Hana forced herself to stop. Her chat would notice. If she really wanted to address the throbbing between her thighs—well. Brigitte had told her what to do.

Hana took a deep breath, thought one last time about the possible consequences, then smiled wide for the webcam. ‘I’m not feeling the serious stuff yet,’ she said, meaning the competitive StarCraft that was her bread and butter. ‘I wanna have a little fun first.’ She paused, as if the words were some kind of magical incantation and she was waiting for their effect. Nothing happened, and she cleared her throat. ‘How about some Hearthstone?’

The voice call came through just as the game was loading. Hana almost jumped out of her seat. So long as she kept her cool, no one would be any the wiser—she’d triple checked her setup, and only her mic, her music, and the game itself were routing audio through to the stream. She composed herself and answered the call.

_‘Hey there, D.Va.’_

Before she’d had a crush on Brigitte herself Hana had had a crush on her accent, and hearing her streamer handle in that voice was enough to set Hana’s pulse racing.

 _‘Careful,’_ Brigitte said, and it’s not that she was sultry: but she was so open, so honest, that she couldn’t hide the arousal in her voice if she tried. ‘ _They’re starting to notice._ ’

Hana glanced at her chat. Sure enough, messages of concern flashed past— _is everything ok? u look feverish_ —and she put a reassuring grin into place. ‘Just fighting off a little cold,’ she said, and winked. ‘Don’t worry. Nothing that could keep me from you guys.’

Brigitte left her alone until she’d started the first game—ranked, because there was no way she was going to attempt arena with her attention split—and then, just as Hana had started to get into the rhythm of things, she started talking.

‘ _The thing about being so far away from you,’_ Brigitte said conversationally, ‘ _is that it_ builds. _Every time I think about you. Every time I talk to you. It just_ builds _, until I’m so horny I don’t know what to do with myself. That’s what happened tonight, at dinner. One of my sisters was talking about a boyfriend and suddenly I couldn’t think about anything other than the way you look when you come, and now here I am. Did you know you had that effect on me? Do_ I _have that effect on_ you _?’_

Hana nearly forgot herself, managed to turn the half-moan into a fake sneeze, and rubbed one hand along the tops of her thighs. The sensation did nothing but remind her where she _wasn’t_ touching herself. She tried to focus on her screen. The board state was bad, but her hand was strong, and a series of tempo plays stabilised both the game and the heat flooding her entire body. Only then did she look at her chat, desperate to find an appropriate question. ‘Do I think D.Mon has a better Protoss than Overlord?’ She made sure to look straight at the camera. ‘Yes. Definitely.’

‘ _I thought so,’_ Brigitte purred in her ear. ‘ _I’m touching myself right now, by the way, in case that wasn’t obvious.’_ Her breathing became shakier suddenly, heavier, halfway between sigh and moan. ‘ _See? That’s what happens if I start fingering myself.’_ Her voice was even again, barely. ‘ _I’m so wet, so sensitive, I think I’d come in about five seconds if you so much as talked dirty to me. But you can’t do that, can you?_ ’ She could hardly have sounded more pleased with herself. _‘That’s the idea, obviously, and I’m having way too much fun to stop yet, so for now I’m just fondling myself… I bet that does it for you, though, doesn’t it? I know you love my boobs. You think you’re subtle, but you stare. It’s cute. Arrogant D.Va, confident D.Va, but too shy to admit she wants to bury her face in my cleavage.’_

Hana wasn’t sure how much longer she could blame the colour in her cheeks on illness. The game helped: the aggro player on the other side was annoying her, and even through the haze of arousal clouding her brain she ran through the mental maths, saw the combo was there, and cleared the board again. ‘You have _no idea_ who you’re dealing with,’ she said triumphantly. She was getting better at talking through the game, narrating and discussing her moves, even with the distraction of Brigitte’s voice in her ear.

‘ _It’s different when I’m with you. I can let off some of that steam, you know? It doesn’t have to be sex. A bit of making out, maybe. Remember that time I fondled your ass on the escalator? Even in public, there’s things we can do.’_ The next words were laced with so much sexual frustration Hana had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself making a sound. ‘ _What am I supposed to do when I’m alone? When I’m walking down the street and I can just_ tell _I’m going to soak through my underwear? Last week I was down in Stockholm, and I saw you on one of those ridiculous billboards. You know, the soda ones. And all I could think was that everyone_ else _on that street, they could only imagine. But I know_ exactly _what you look like naked. I know just how fucking gorgeous your body is, and I know where to touch it, and I know the noises you make when I do. And that was it. I couldn’t take it anymore._

 _‘So I went into a clothes store, picked out some random things, and got into a changing room. And I masturbated, Hana. I imagined you were there with me. I imagined pushing you up against the wall, putting a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, and making you come around my fingers. Can you imagine that? I fucked myself, and there was only a curtain between me and half a dozen other people, and it didn’t even_ occur _to me to stop until I came. Before I met you I would have died of embarrassment just thinking about it. But it felt so incredibly good and now I kind of want to do it again and it’s all because of you_. You _do this to me._ ’ Brigitte paused, and Hana found herself holding her breath, hanging on Brigitte’s every word. ‘ _You’re on the rope, by the way._ ’

Hana swore, focused back on the screen, and threw out a series of cards just before time ran out, playing more by instinct than any real strategy. Brigitte’s laughter in her ears was echoed by the stream of messages in her chat making fun of her. ‘I’m just getting warmed up!’ she said, trying to sound confident rather than hot and bothered, but she wasn’t at all sure she pulled it off: she could feel her heartbeat now, pulsing between her legs, and every time she shifted in her chair, a little wave of pleasure washed over her.

_‘Mmm, I bet you’re plenty warm already. I bet your pussy is hot and wet and desperate for something to fill it. I bet you wish you could do something about it.’_

And, just this once, the game lined up with Brigitte’s voice: her opponent played a legendary minion, and as her secret activated in response, Hana looked back at the camera, lifted her chin in challenge, and said, ‘You really think I can’t do something about that?’

There was a harsh intake of breath on the other end of the line. ‘ _I was really,_ really _hoping you’d say that._ ’

Hana took a few seconds to consider whether she’d gone completely mad. But her webcam only showed her face, and she could play with one hand, and in that moment, with the image of Brigitte naked and moaning in a public changing room, she couldn’t think of a single reason to hold back. She always wore something comfortable while she streamed—a big, soft t-shirt, sweatpants—and she’d never been more grateful for the lack of buttons and zippers as she leaned down and pulled her pants down under the pretence of adjusting her chair. Her underwear was even more of a mess than she’d expected. She took a small, shallow breath and slipped her hand below the waistband.

All Hana’s doubts were seared away by the relief of fingers spreading swollen, dripping folds. It felt nothing like masturbating normally did: it was like a pro match compared to a casual, ostensibly the same game being played but deeply, fundamentally different. Two fingers pushed inside her pussy before she was even conscious of the decision, and every muscle below her waist twitched and trembled with the effort of keeping any sign of it off her face. She’d _never_ been this wet, never felt anything remotely like this _need_ , never wanted anyone as much as she wanted Brigitte Lindholm in that moment.

Then her opponent finished their turn, and she forced herself to pay attention. They’d reached the endgame. ‘Let’s do this,’ she whispered, for the benefit of her stream, and it seemed to her that surely no one could fail to guess what she was doing, and she found that she didn’t _care_ so long as she could keep doing it.

‘ _Åh herregud_ ,’ Brigitte said, ragged, and Hana didn’t have to understand Swedish to understand that, eight thousand kilometres away, Brigitte had finally given in. ‘ _This is better than—than anything I’ve ever felt,’_ she said, voice full of wonder. ‘ _No toys. No porn. Just me and you.’_

Hana kept her eyes fixed firmly ahead. She didn’t dare touch her clit directly, not with how fucking sensitive the rest of her was, and it was just as well, because she had only the one free hand, and it was otherwise occupied, thrusting into her pussy in an awkward, uneven rhythm, her palm sending vibrations through her vulva every time it made contact. And all the while the game went on, and no matter how distracted she was, part of her refused to simply give up on it.

Brigitte moaned, low and long, and it was as if she was sitting right next to Hana. ‘ _There are thousands of people watching you masturbate,’_ and Hana could only hope her blush wasn’t as intense as it felt, ‘ _and I'm the only one who knows. You know how fucking hot that is?’_

‘How are you _doing_ this to me?’ Hana said, her voice more or less even, and if it didn’t quite make sense in the context of the game, her chat would just have to deal. Her nipples were hard now, rubbing against her shirt, and her hand was moving as fast as she dared, and she knew she’d have to finish soon or she didn’t stand a chance of keeping herself together.

 _‘The same way you’re doing it to me,’_ Brigitte said, and her breath hitched. _‘I love you. I wish I could be there, kneeling, tasting you’—_ she gasped, hard, and it was a good thing Hana was playing a turn-based game, because her mouse hand jerked halfway across her mousepad in response—‘ _but this is—this is—’,_ only Hana never learnt what it was, because Brigitte’s words dissolved into a series of desperate, shuddering moans as she finally came.

‘Oh my god,’ Hana said, just as Brigitte recovered enough to say, ‘ _Come for me, D.Va,’_ and then there was simply no stopping it.

Hana was not normally restrained in bed, but she bent every shred of willpower she possessed to the task of staying still, staying quiet, even as the waves of her orgasm washed over her, one after another, her legs trembling, her cunt tightening around her fingers, and when she couldn’t keep it in any longer, she at least had the presence of mind to disguise her moans with a fit of coughing.

And then it was over, and so was the game, the word _Defeat!_ splashed across her screen, and just then there were very few things in the world Hana cared less about. She sat there, panting slightly, little aftershocks of pleasure shooting through her abused pussy as she slowly withdrew her fingers.

‘ _That was_ incredible,’ Brigitte said, and she sounded more like herself, the lust tamped down to an ember. ‘ _That was hotter than I ever imagined anything could be. The next time I see you, you’re not going to be walking straight for_ days _.’_ An ember, Hana amended, that was already starting to build into something hotter.

Hana forgot herself and said, ‘Yeah, it was.’ Then she froze, panicking—

_‘Also, you missed lethal.’_

—glanced at her chat, found that Brigitte was right, and added ‘definitely a write-off, I mean.’ She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and resolved that, if she was going to make a habit of masturbating on stream, she’d master the art of remembering what to say aloud and what not to. ‘Sorry, everyone! I guess this cold is worse than I thought. Let me just go make a cup of tea and I’ll be right back.’

She took off her headset, grabbed her phone, and carefully manoeuvred herself so that the chair back was between her half-naked self and the webcam. Then she made a beeline for the bathroom and cleaned the mess between her legs up as best she could.

Only then did she take her phone out. The call was still connected. ‘I can’t believe I just did that.’

Brigitte laughed. ‘ _I can._ ’

‘Really?’

‘ _Yeah. You always think you can get away with anything. It’s kinda attractive.’_

Hana snorted. ‘What do you think? _Did_ I get away with it?’

‘ _I think so. Maybe people noticed you were acting strange, but you did a surprisingly good job hiding… you know.’_

‘The fact that I was unbelievably horny the whole time?’

_‘Yes. I don’t think anyone will jump to the right conclusion.’_

‘Let’s hope so.’ Hana washed her hands, stretched, and, in lieu of finding another pair of pants, wrapped herself in the fluffiest bathrobe she owned. No harm in playing up the illness angle. ‘I better get back and make sure it stays that way. But let me make something clear: I’m not letting _you_ get away with all this. I’m going to get back at you. _Soon._ ’

And the ember in Brigitte’s voice fanned once more into flame. ‘ _I can’t wait._ ’

*

Three weeks later, on her first full day in Busan, Brigitte emerged into Hana's living room jetlagged and bleary, hair messy from sleep. She was wearing nothing but a large flannel shirt over her underwear, and despite the _thorough_ sex they'd had the night before, Hana couldn’t wait to take her right back to bed.

But first she had a plan to execute. Once she judged that Brigitte was standing in the right place, Hana got up from her desk, walked over to her—only a _little_ gingerly—and kissed her a thorough good morning.

'Hey hey,' Brigitte said.

'Hey yourself.’ Hana grinned. 'Remember last night, when I said I thought I'd be ready to come out soon?'

Brigitte cocked her head. 'Of course.’

Hana let her smile widen. 'And remember when I said I'd get back at you for that... one time?'

Brigitte froze. 'Hana,' she said. 'Are you streaming right now?'

And Hana turned towards the webcam, put on her best streamer voice, and said, 'Hey chat! Meet my girlfriend!'

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to apologise for the major plot hole in this fic, namely the fact that there's no way the game would have lasted that long if Hana's opponent was running an aggro deck.


End file.
